


31 days of Cullen and Carver

by cullenlovesmen (handersmyheart)



Series: Bi!Cullen fics [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Bottom Carver, Bottom Cullen, Cheating To Be Together, Depression, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Major character death in chapter 25 - otherwise rather death-free, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Templar porn, Voyeurism, bi!cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handersmyheart/pseuds/cullenlovesmen
Summary: A Culver ficlet a day keeps the doctors away. These ficlets are not all set in the same timeline.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** : 47. [I know they’re watching. That’s the point.](https://honestsycrets.tumblr.com/post/174893732165/smut-prompts)  
> Josephine's POV.

Josephine couldn’t avert her eyes - Maker knows she had tried. She should have turned away, should’ve rushed back to her room and forget about what she saw, but the scene before her had her transfixed. 

Carver had Cullen pinned against the wall, chest pressed against the harsh stone and pants pooled on the floor. She saw the hand moving behind the Commander, heard the barely suppressed gasps answering the movements. She couldn’t quite see everything, but she didn’t have to - she wasn't born yesterday. 

“C-carver, please, we ha-have to stop, someone might--” 

“You'd love that, wouldn't you?” Carver growled, dabbing his fingers hard, his teeth nibbling Cullen’s ear. “Can you imagine their faces? The esteemed Commander played like a violin, writhing and begging for my cock. What would they think?”

Cullen mewled, arching his back and pushing to meet the fingers. Josephine’s hand flew to cover her mouth - she really shouldn’t be here. A blush crept on her cheeks upon hearing the words, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. 

“See, I think they’d find you beautiful like this,” Carver continued, merciless. “I bet they’d wonder how your insides feel, what it would be like to have you under them. If you could only see yourself now, love.”

Cullen responded with a weak whine, his eyes closed and mouth agape. Carver hovered over him, pressing little kisses on his face, his neck, poking at his curls with his nose. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, so perfect just like this. Isn’t that right, Ambassador?”

Josephine gasped out loud. Her eyes locked with Carver’s for a mortifying second before she scrambled up the stairs in haste, her diplomacy utterly failing her and her usual grace nowhere to be found as she tripped on a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** 26\. [Such bad manners.](https://honestsycrets.tumblr.com/post/174893732165/smut-prompts)

Carver drove him out of his mind. He knew he did it on purpose - no son of a noblewoman could possibly possess such horrible manners, he couldn’t possibly be so improper without intent. Cullen knew this, but it didn’t stop his blood from boiling when the man smirked at him from the formation he’d commanded his soldiers to take. The corner of his eye twitched in anger as Carver wagged his eyebrows.

“Dismissed!” he bellowed, having had quite enough for the day. Except... “Ser Hawke, a word.” 

Carver grinned, standing in place as the group around them dissolved. “Commander?”

“My office,” Cullen said, his words clipped and harsh as he lead the way, not bothering to check if the tall brunette was following him. His office was empty, luckily, and he turned abruptly upon hearing the door click shut behind them.

“You will not undermine my authority in front of my men!” he barked at Carver’s face. 

Carver smirked, leaning back against the door, as cool and relaxed as ever. Cullen crunched his fingers in a fist, trying to stay in control, since losing it was exactly what the soldier wanted. “Ser, I've done no such thing, but you can discipline me if you like.”

That’s right. He could discipline him every day, spank his sweet little arse red against his desk, or fuck the man until he couldn't speak, but nothing he ever did could wipe that smirk off his face. He fell for the trap every time. People were starting to talk, but he couldn't help himself - something about the man had always pulled a reaction out of him, whether he liked it or not. 

Carver pushed himself off the door, invading Cullen’s space, pausing just short of touching. His breath tingled the skin of his neck as he spoke. “So, what’s today’s punishment, Ser?”

Cullen sighed, anger burning hot under his skin, knowing there was only one release for it - just as there was only one cause for it. He should have known better than to get involved with a _Hawke_. 

“Upstairs. Get rid of your armor. Ready yourself for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** : 17. [It doesn’t hurt so much when you’re here.](https://honestsycrets.tumblr.com/post/175655823835/cuddly-prompts)

Meredith was dead. It'd been months since she raised her blade against the Champion and frozen into a statue at the yard - three months, exactly. Three confusing months of trying to rebuild the Circle, three awful months of mourning their losses, three stupefying months of realizing the damage her command had caused. 

Their command, if Cullen was being honest. He couldn't afford to lie to himself anymore - he was just as responsible as Meredith had been, and it felt like he’d barely scratched the surface of what their actions had lead to. Now it all had fallen onto his shoulders; it was up to him to mend what was broken, to find a better way to run what remained of the Circle. He was ready to drop, exhaustion and guilt bubbling up to the surface as he went through the last of today’s paperwork. 

There was a light knock on his door, and he lifted his heavy head to look. Carver let himself in, closed the door quietly, a small smile on his face as he settled behind Cullen. His fingertips found a stray tear on his cheek, and he wiped it softly with his thumb. He hadn't left Cullen’s side since that day.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, patting Cullen’s shoulder as he gave way. 

Cullen complied, leaving his desk and ridding himself of his armor. He had come to rely on Carver’s advice during these months, his own moral compass broken and useless. Carver was still a good man, righteous and gentle, somehow untainted by what had made a wretch out of him. The man had caught him when he ground below him had cracked, and set to work on fixing what little wasn't beyond repair in Cullen. He settled between the sheets and looked up into those concerned eyes. 

“Do you want me to go?” Carver asked, kneeling by the bed and running a tentative finger down his arm. 

“No,” he all but whispered, settling himself farther in the bed, hoping the empty space next to him was enough of an invite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** : 19. [I need a taste, please.](https://honestsycrets.tumblr.com/post/174893732165/smut-prompts)

There were rules; they didn’t kiss, they didn’t touch, and they never spoke of what they did behind closed doors. This was the only way Cullen could allow this to happen between them - they would both have plausible deniability should someone find out about their midnight trysts. If Meredith were to order the mages to perform tracing spells on them, they would come up with naught. 

Following rules was not something Ser Carver was particularly gifted at, as it happened. They were laid out on their sides in Cullen’s bed, facing each other, a safe distance between their naked bodies. Both of them had their cocks in their hands, their paces languid as they stared in each other’s eyes. 

“Ser, please. I. I need a taste, please,” Carver whined, his eyes darting to Cullen’s crotch and back to his face, pleading. “Come on, Ser, I need to know what you taste like. Please, y-you’re driving me crazy.”

Cullen crunched his eyes shut, steeling himself to say no. Again. It was getting harder every time, but he couldn’t let the other man know the effect his begging had on him. “Maker, Carver. You know the rules.”

“To the Void with the rules! We’re not hurting anybody,” Carver complained. 

They continued in silence, only their labored breaths and the sound of skin on skin hanging between them. Cullen could never hope to express how much their arrangement pained him - how he longed to touch, to kiss, to hold--

“Okay, my lips are wrapped around you,” Carver said, interrupting his thoughts. “Look at them,” Cullen snapped his gaze at him, surprised at the new development. “I’ve made them nice and wet for you. I swallow the head, and, uhh, s-suck on you lightly.”

Cullen’s hand sped up, an involuntary groan leaving his lips. Carver looked wrecked, his lips shimmering with spit, his eyes dark with lust. “Yeah?”

“I dart out my tongue,” he gasped, clearly nearing his orgasm. He closed his eyes, licked his lips slowly. “Give you a real slow lick. I’m l-loving it, love the taste, I’m gonna swallow you all in, but I. I wanna see y-you first.”

Cullen could imagine it; Carver’s sky-blue eyes looking up at him, adoring and clouded. His pretty pink lips stretched around his cock, his hair ruffled and wild in Cullen’s hands. The fantasy was intense - forbidden and wrong, his voice a mere whisper as he begged, “Please, love.”

Carver came with a low growl, his mouth open and eyes closed. Cullen followed shortly after him, flipping to his back as his spend stained his hands. Breathless and dazed, he turned his head to look at Carver. His eyes shone with longing, terrible and all-consuming, reflecting exactly what Cullen felt. Seeing him like this struck Cullen like a dagger to the heart, but it was all they could have, and it was still better than nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** : 21. [Do we have to cuddle in the open?](https://honestsycrets.tumblr.com/post/175655823835/cuddly-prompts)

“People are staring at us,” Cullen whispered, half-heartedly trying to detangle himself from Carver. Many of the patrons at Skyhold’s tavern were sneaking glances their way, snickering and gossiping, but Carver sat firmer in his lap, his arms thrown around his shoulders. 

“Let them stare. We’re probably the hottest couple they’ve ever seen,” he laughed drunkenly, nosing at Cullen’s hair. “We’re doing them a favor, really.”

“Isn’t it enough that everyone knows about us? Do they have to see us, too?” Cullen complained, his cheeks aflame as his boyfriend wriggled on him. 

“Yep. I’d have you fuck me right here, and you know it. I have nothing to be ashamed of,” he purred, giving Cullen’s cheek a quick lick before dissolving into giggles. “Besides, I live to see you embarrassed like this.”

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Cullen scowled.

“Because I’ve seen you at your worst and I love you anyway. And you love me,” Carver smiled, warmth radiating from his eyes. 

Well. There was no arguing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by a song** : [Valery Leontyev - Parokhody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUOT1ty7uo4)

It may be the last time he will see him, so Cullen memorizes the picture; the tall man standing at the end of the pier, his arms folded on his chest, his polished armor reflecting the sun. His dark hair is messy - _always messy and wild and soft as a feather_ \- his piercing blue eyes unblinking as he watches Cullen’s ship float away. His mouth drawn in a straight line, solemn. Angry and disappointed.

Carver doesn't cry. Neither does Cullen. 

There is nothing more to say, no words they hadn't spoken the night before, no tears left unshed. They had promised to write, but who knows what the world has in store for them? He doesn't _want_ to go - never thought he would willingly leave Carver behind - but he _needs_ to. The Divine herself beckons, the promise of salvation hanging in the air - the path to forgiveness finally in sight. He doesn't know if it’s more selfish of him to leave or to stay, but the decision is made. 

The sun is high in the sky, the joy of her warm rays out of place on this terrible day. The wind beats Cullen’s face, making him squint. A flock of seagulls circles high above his ship, their wails and the rumble of sea covering the noises of Kirkwall. The city looks small and insignificant from his vantage point - as if it hadn't been the stage for his downfall, as if it hadn't witnessed each and every one of his grievous mistakes. It feels almost good to leave, even though his baggage will forever follow.

But Carver. If only he could come with him. The form of his beloved is a mere blur in the distance, still standing in place - without a doubt still angry. 

Carver will move on. He deserves better. 

Cullen picks up the flasks he had stashed on the floor, finally out of Carver’s sight. He must not know about this yet, mustn't worry more than he inevitably will. The sea swallows the vials, one by one, her careless waves carrying them out of his sight, but not out of his mind. 

Perhaps if he meets Carver again, he might finally deserve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	7. Chapter 7

A group of mages stood at the yard of Skyhold, their curious faces morphing into grins of amusement as they saw Cullen storm towards the bulletin board by the staircase to the fortress. His cheeks burned hot, already ashamed of what he’d surely find. 

He suspected the mages were responsible - his reputation as the terror of Kirkwall Circle was difficult to shake, especially after how vocal he had been about his wish to recruit the templars to Inquisition’s aid. The notes were always written in a neat handwriting, the paper always bearing the official seal of their organization. He had stayed awake so many nights, trying to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator, but to no avail - it was as if they were a ghost. 

The messages in the notes varied a lot - it could be anything from immature opinions to wildly inappropriate claims. One thing was certain - it was always something that aimed to embarrass Cullen. He reached the board and tore the yellow paper off its pins. 

“Commander Cullen lays with men.”

“Oh, for...” he exhaled, turning around to face the group of amused mages. “Did you do this? Which one of you is responsible?” he barked. This breach of his privacy was a step too far, even if it was just a guess.

“We didn't write that, Ser,” a man in crimson robes responded, clearly holding back his laughter. 

“Besides, Ser, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” a young lady interjected, unable to meet his eyes in her mirth. 

“I will find you, whoever you are, and I’ll--”

The paper was taken from Cullen’s hand, effectively interrupting whatever threats were about to pour out of his mouth. Carver Hawke stood next to him, his brows furrowed as he studied the note. Cullen’s stomach dropped, too stunned to reprimand his soldier for his disrespectful behaviour. Now one of his own men was aware of the pranks being pulled on him. This was just great.

“Commander, I recognize this handwriting,” Carver said after a pause, lifting his sky-blue eyes to regard his commanding officer, not a hint of a smile on his face. “It belongs to one of the newer recruits. The guy shares quarters with me and a couple of other guys. I can take you to him.”

Cullen stared back, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, the guy always leaves his personal letters all over the place. He’s a real pain in the arse, Ser,” Carver answered, gesturing for Cullen to follow. They walked in silence for a while. Carver drew to a slow stop once the mages were out of earshot. He bit his lip, shaking his head to himself, obviously considering something.

“I’m sorry, Ser, this is fucking stupid, and I’m an idiot, but I have to ask - is it true?”

Cullen folded his arms over his chest and frowned at the ex-templar. Manners had never been Carver’s strong suit, but he tolerated his trespasses because the man was a skilled soldier and. Well. If he fancied him a little bit, that was nobody’s business but his own. He had kept things professional back in the Gallows, and he could very well keep his secret in Skyhold, too. He would not, however, put up with sour attitudes when it came to things like this. “What if it was?”

Carver looked at the ground, uncharacteristically self-conscious. Was he blushing? “I-- I would be very happy, Ser,” he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. The man closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and started walking again. 

Cullen stood rooted to the spot, trying to process what he had heard, his heartbeat elevated and the all-too-familiar blush creeping back on his cheeks. That wasn't... It couldn't be. 

“Are you coming, Ser?” Carver called, not quite meeting his eyes. Cullen made a flash decision to file this information for later. For now, there was a recruit to question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by** : Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Also, hollyand is an enabler and this ficlet is meant as a joke.

Carver strikes the target dummy, his sword cutting through the coarse fabric. His jaw is tense, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek. This had been a mistake - he never should have enlisted in the Order. To the Void with templars! Especially the cursed Knight-Captain. 

“Hawke! A word!”

Speak of the devil. Temper spiking at the familiar voice, Carver drives a harsh blow through the target, a glorious puff of stuffing erupting in its wake. He drops his sword where he stands, striding towards Ser Rutherford with long, angry steps. The man turns, as stiff as a rod, and walks inside. “In my office.”

Carver follows him into his quarters, quiet and flushed. What would it be this time? Was his armor unpolished? Had he made his bed carelessly? Had he eaten too much at lunch? Nothing escaped Ser Rutherford’s notice, and Carver seemed to be his favourite recruit to bully. To say he’s had enough would be an understatement, but he needs this career. Mother needs him, Marian is off on her wild goose chase, and Gamlen. Well, Gamlen is good for nothing. It's all on him now. 

So Carver stands still, quiet and unobtrusive, as the Knight-Captain paces around the room, clearly fuming with whatever happens to irk him today. 

“Sit.”

Carver obeys, picking the closest chair. He may as well get this over with fast, take the garbage that is about to be thrown at him, and continue to take his fury out on the training dummies. 

The uncomfortable silence stretches as Ser Rutherford keeps pacing, his armored hands clenching into fists and releasing, sighs of frustration bursting from his mouth, his eyes tightly shut. Suddenly, his fist flies meets a bookshelf, thin volumes of the Chant falling to the floor. 

“I cannot do this anymore, Hawke. I must,” he pauses to draw in a shaky breath, the tone of his voice strange, unsteady and desperate. “I must tell you how madly I adore you - how violently I love you.”

Carver’s eyebrows climb high on his forehead. What is this? A new tactic to break him?

“I cannot imagine this comes as a surprise to you, but I never meant to tell you any of this. Do you understand the risk I am taking? Do you even realize how inappropriate this is? You are my subordinate, a mere recruit, while I am the second in command. Not to mention that your sister is a known apostate - a blood mage, if rumours are to be believed. This is most unfortunate, a grievous affair, but I cannot suppress my emotions any longer. You have ruined me.”

“You are joking,” Carver manages, his voice surprisingly flat for how astonished he feels.

“I assure you, I am as serious as can be. My life is in your hands, Hawke. I am but a slave to your whims. All I ask is for your hand in marriage - I will arrange everything else. I will apply for a special permit from the Knight-Commander, and should she throw me to the streets, lyrium-deprived and dishonored and wretched, it will be nothing compared to the torment you have put me through. What say you?”

He stares at Carver, his eyes anguished and lips twisted in dismay. He is really serious. Cullen fucking Rutherford is proposing to him, after months upon months of harassing him about whatever happened to annoy him at the moment. Every cross word he’s ever said replays in Carver’s head, piling up and adding to his fury. He jumps from his seat, his body tensed and ready to leap. 

“I have tormented you?! What in the Void’s name is wrong with you? What about how you have treated me?!”

The Knight-Captain steps back, his eyes wide in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You've made a joke out of me! I’m the laughing stock of the entire fucking garrison, thanks to your little remarks! You have made my life here next to fucking impossible! Nobody will even talk to me because they think your disapproval will extend to anyone in contact with me!”

Ser Rutherford turns his head away, grimacing. His hand reaches to rub the back of his neck. “I-- I could not give you preferential treatment just because I love you. I’m. I’m sorry, I hadn't realized--”

“And now you stand there, valiantly proposing to me, while simultaneously insulting me in every possible way - Void, insulting my sister! How dare you?! I bet you thought this would be a mere formality! That I would fall at your feet and squeal ‘Yes!’. Well, you have another thing coming, Ser, for you’re the last person I would ever marry!”

Carver yells at the top of his lungs, his face beet red and arms animated, harsh breaths puffing his chest. The Knight-Captain watches him in shock, clearly at a loss for words. A brief silence follows as the men regard each other. 

“I seem to have misjudged you, and I cannot apologize enough. I will take every measure to win your favor and redeem myself in your eyes. This I can promise you,” Ser Rutherford says at last, his voice quiet and face earnest. 

The taste of blood returns to Carver’s mouth as he bites his tongue and turns to leave. He pauses at the door, glancing at the Knight-Captain one more time. “Good luck with that.”

He slams the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by** : The first snow falling where I live.

Carver awakens to a tingling sensation, his body shivering. He opens his bleary eyes, the dim light of early dawn greeting him. He feels a pinprick on his arm, turning to look at the spot. A snowflake melts on his skin, leaving a freezing droplet of water in its wake.

“Oh, for Void’s sakes,” he mumbles, and elbows Cullen’s sleeping form. 

“Mm, what?” the man stirs, digging his head deeper into his pillow. 

“It’s snowing. You've got to do something about that roof,” Carver says, attaching himself against Cullen’s back. “Or we’ll die of hypothermia.”

“Go back to sleep,” Cullen sighs, leaning back to the warmth of his chest. Carver snakes an arm around him, his skin of his forearm freezing. “You’re cold.”

“Didn't you hear what I just said? It’s snowing,” Carver questions, mildly irritated, the tip of his nose digging to the back of Cullen’s neck. 

Cullen finally opens his eyes, gazing at the slowly falling snowflakes. He can’t recall why he hasn't asked for the roof to be fixed yet. Perhaps more pressing matters have stolen his attention before, but now. Now Carver is here, and he ought to take care of it, and fast. But first...

“Perhaps I should warm you up.” Cullen turns, pushing Carver on his back. The annoyance in the man’s eyes melts away as Cullen runs a finger down the expanse of his chest. 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t have you cold on my watch, can I?” Cullen smiles, the last drapes of slumber still lingering in his eyes. 

Carver mock-scoffs, pulling the other man on top him. The sun rises above the horizon, its rays painting the clouds above pink and orange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** (dragonage_kinkmeme): I can't be the only one who's thought about how convenient those skirts on the Templar uniform would be if someone chose to go without pants on underneath. I want a fic about Cullen getting railed while wearing that. Specifically, I want him to get bent over something and have the skirt hiked up and like, resting on his lower back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a tiny hint at f!Hawke/Isabela in this chapter.  
> Relevant tags: semi-public sex, bottom!Cullen, mild exhibition kink

Cullen stood before Knight-Commander Meredith’s door, hesitant to knock. She hadn't been pleasant company as of late, and the story of Hawke’s crew’s latest mishap would not delight her. He found himself afraid of becoming the object of her anger again. Her temper had worsened during the last year or so, and she could no longer see reason when it came to bad news. Shooting the messenger was definitely on the table, and who else would she punish but her very own second-in-command?

Ser Carver ascended from the courtyard, his expression softening upon picking up on the situation. “A word, Knight-Captain?”

Cullen let out a heavy exhale, rubbing his neck. He turned around to face the Knight, shaking his head in indecision. He should have declined and performed his duty to Meredith. “I suppose.” The other man, always considerate and caring, was offering him an out. He followed the Knight into the room next to Meredith’s office, used for storing goods frequently needed. 

Carver was on him the moment the door closed behind him, trapping him against the rough wood of it. His breath was hot on his neck, his taller body dwarfing his own. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, Ser.”

“This is not the right time nor place,” Cullen admonished, but didn't resist as the man bent down slightly to kiss him, his large hands cupping his jaw. It always felt good with him, to give in and be controlled - but it was a terrible idea to succumb to him here. Beyond terrible, really.

“You needn't worry about Meredith. She’s too distracted with whatever she’s been up to lately,” Carver said in between kisses, his body rocking against Cullen’s. “She won’t notice a thing if we’re quiet. Come on, you need to unwind. I can see that from miles away.”

“How can you be so sure of that? Besides, we have duties. Why don’t you come over to my quarters later tonight?” Cullen asked, his cheeks flushed, voice a little unsteady. He mustn't give in; this could only end in disaster. Meredith could have a moment of clarity, and she might hear them and come looking. 

The thought shouldn't have had the effect on Cullen it had. He could imagine the scene - the Knight-Commander halted at the door, he himself bent over a table, helpless and pitiful, as Carver held him down, fucked him to an inch of his life. She would screech, express her utter disgust at what she saw, Cullen would die of shame and humiliation, and Carver? It was impossible to know how he would react.

“Oh, I’ll come, but it seems you can’t wait.” Carver smirked, his hand hovering over Cullen’s cock, his excitement impossible to hide. The Knight licked his plump lips, wet and spoiled by the kissing, his eyebrow arched in question, awaiting for permission. He was a compelling sight; muscular and handsome, and miraculously, somehow Cullen’s, too. Not that anyone knew; they could never tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I know you can be quiet if need be,” Carver tried, his thumb coming up to rub at Cullen’s lower lip, his eyes intent. Any resolve Cullen may have gathered shattered as the digit breached his mouth, Carver’s expression darkening as he watched it enter.

He suckled hesitantly on the intruding thumb, and just like that, it was on. In a great flurry of movement, Carver pulled Cullen from the door, barred it with a nearby chest, stepped over to a table and swept a pile of papers to the floor with his arm. “Over here,” he commanded, guiding Cullen to bend over, his armor clinking against the table and his arse up in the air. He lifted the skirt of Cullen’s uniform, gathering it to rest on his lower back.

“Well, then. No smalls, huh?” He asked, surprised laughter in his voice. He brought down a hand, giving Cullen’s buttock a little slap. "Someone could think you're walking around the Gallows, just waiting to get fucked. Not by anyone but me, I hope?"

"No, no-one else," Cullen responded, his cheeks flushed bright red. He had left out the smalls on purpose. Not because he had really expected this to happen, but because of the thrill of imagining it had been so great. Ever since he and Carver had become an item, he had discovered some strange sides to himself - their nighttime activities lead to daytime fantasies with which he indulged himself whenever a quiet moment allowed it. He didn't really have an excuse for his indecent dress, but he hadn't expected to be found out.

"That's good to hear. I may have a little secret of my own, too." A shuffle followed as Carver fumbled through his uniform for something, eventually producing a small vial, bringing it down for Cullen to see.

"Oil? Did you plan this?"

“No, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared. You never know when your slutty Knight-Captain needs to get shagged,” Carver purred. He opened the vial, coated his fingers, and unceremoniously proceeded to prepare his commanding officer. 

Cullen bit his tongue, willing himself to stay silent as finger after finger breached him, wiggling inside of him, brushing against his sweet spot. He couldn't fully relax, not when the Knight-Commander was just a stone wall away. Why did he agree to this? What was wrong with him? 

“Look at you, sweetheart, such a good boy for me. Stop worrying and just let me take care of you, okay?” Carver bent down to kiss his neck, their armors clashing against each other. “When have I ever let you down?”

Cullen willed himself to relax - the words rang true. Nobody else had shown him such consideration and support in years. Nobody had ever taken such painstaking measures to understand Cullen’s needs and fill them with such excited enthusiasm. Somehow Carver had crawled under his skin and made himself a home there. He was safe here with him, and all he needed to do was to obey. Carver would take care of the rest. It was silly to think the man had any control over their environment, but his ability to reason was impaired by those fingers that curled just right.

“Please, I’m ready,” he begged. 

“You’re nowhere near ready. You sure?” 

“Please, just, need it,” Cullen said, his voice a quiet demand. He loved it when it burned - the feel of Carver’s large cock stretching his insides, the sensation reminding him of whom he belonged to. Carver always made it better, always magicked the pain into pleasure, his movements so expertly tailored to transport Cullen into another realm - a realm where nothing else existed but the two of them, moving together towards brilliant bliss. 

He felt the oiled head entering him, carefully inching deeper inside despite the resistance. He let out a shaky exhale, already feeling so full, so claimed. There was nothing better than this, nothing sweeter than being held down and owned by his Knight, no responsibilities weighing down his shoulders while Carver took care of him. He couldn't withhold a moan as the man bottomed out.

“Hush, sweetheart, gotta be quiet now,” Carver urged, his breath tingling the back of his neck, his weight a delicious pressure on him. He started moving, slowly at first, making sure every thrust hit home, contrasting the pain with magnificent pleasure. The desk below them creaked as it rocked with them, the sound terrifyingly loud in the silence of the room. 

Carver held out a hand against the wall, seeking leverage to quieten its sounds, managing to detach the table from the stone wall. He kept going, the pace steady and calculated, quiet sighs escaping them both. Cullen couldn't keep his eyes open as the contrasting sensations mixed up into a strange cocktail in his body.

“So close already, aren't you? Must've needed it bad,” he murmured. “Good thing I’m here, yeah? You can go see Meredith well-fucked and pliant, and she won’t even notice. She won’t know how I fucked you right under her nose, how her second-in-command had his skirt lifted right next door.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen managed, his cock hardening further at the words, the bottom of his stomach as tight as a bowstring as Carver kept talking, his cock pounding into him. 

“You like that, don’t you? Like being my little slut, dying to bend over for me even when anyone could walk in? What would they think if they knew?” 

“Please, Carver.” 

Carver provided, circling an arm around his shoulders, keeping him in place as he drove into him - precise and harsh, hitting his prostate on each stab of his cock. Cullen bit his lips and crunched his eyes, trying very hard to stay quiet under the onslaught, Carver’s continued monologue fading out of his consciousness as his orgasm approached. The world went white, the taste of blood entering his mouth as he came, strips of spend spurting out of him to who-knows-where. His entire torso went flax, arms rolling nerveless to his sides, helpless as Carver fucked him through his high.

“...and they’d never look at you the same way, knowing you’re mine, regal and formal Knight-Captain nothing but melted wax in my ha-hands -- ahh!” 

Cullen heard the words through his haze, felt the spend painting his insides as Carver came, stuttering to a halt. He fell boneless on top of him, his heavy breaths right next to his ear. They stayed like that for a while, until finally interrupted by the warning creaks from the table below them. 

“Come on, on the floor.”

Cullen was assisted to sit on the cold tiles, his sore arse protesting to the position. Carver pulled him against his chest, his arms circled around him, Cullen’s weary head rested on his shoulder. They sat in silence, cheek to cheek, their breaths eventually slowing down. 

“Do you want to talk about it? The thing that had you stalling at Meredith’s door?” Carver inquired, his hand coming to brush at his cheek. 

“Maybe later. Just your sister and her pirate captain up to no good, as usual. I ought to go give her my report,” Cullen sighed, getting up. 

Carver took Cullen’s extended hand and stood up, rolling his eyes. “This I’ve got to hear.” 

Cullen fixed his armor, straightening the folds of his skirt. He paused. “I came on my skirt. Shit. Now what am I supposed to do?” 

Carver burst out laughing, coming closer to inspect the wet spot right there in the dead center of the garment. He lifted an eyebrow at Cullen, a smirk spreading on his lips. “Nobody knows what that is. Could be just water, right?”

Cullen scoffed, not quite buying it.

“Come on, they won’t know. No way they’ll know. But you’ll know.” Carver stepped into Cullen’s space and lifted his jaw with his finger, forcing eye contact. “Think about me when you see that stain, yeah? Remember you’re mine when my seed drips down your thighs. I’ll come by your quarters later tonight - think you can manage until then?” 

“Maker’s breath, Carver,” Cullen cursed, blood running hot in his veins again. The man was effective, he had to give him that. He had no time to worry about Meredith - or anything at all - in his company, not when his mind was so thoroughly occupied by his Knight. 

“Now, run along and give your report, yeah? You’ll be fine,” Carver said, pulling Cullen in for a kiss, giving a gentle pat on his bottom. 

Cullen couldn't help a small smile. “Yeah, I guess I’ll manage it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a weird little thing told from Sebastian’s POV. Unrequited Cullen/Sebastian, implied Cullen/Carver.

The Kirkwall Chantry was bathed in light. The rays poured down from behind Sebastian as he stood by Grand Cleric Elthina’s side, assisting her sermon. The kneeling crowd below them was painted golden, shiny armors reflecting the rays as if they were stars in the sky. 

But Sebastian’s heart was shadowed. The brilliant colours couldn't warm him up, nor could Elthina’s inspiring words reach him, for down below, a disheartening sight had caught his attention. He wanted to close his eyes, to walk away. He needed a moment of quiet contemplation, but alas, he was stuck at the sermon.

Knight-Captain Cullen was kneeling among his fellow templars, his golden hair like a halo in the light. Next to him was Hawke’s little brother, a small smile on his face as he discreetly rubbed his thumb on the back of Ser Cullen’s hand. The Knight-Captain darted his gaze at the other man, admonishing him wordlessly, but he didn't move away. A silent conversation followed, words replaced by their eyes and smiles, and Sebastian couldn't look away.

He had no right to feel the way he did. He had no claim on Ser Cullen, for they had never exchanged more than a few sentences and a couple of appreciative glances. His logic couldn't soothe his heart as he watched the two men, enchanted by each other, sharing a connection he could never have. He had no right to desire a word with the younger Hawke, to tell him to be good to Ser Cullen, or else. 

He tore his eyes away as the pair shared a meaningful look between them. The path of priesthood was not meant to be easy - the vows to Andraste were intended a sacrifice. Perhaps the Maker had granted him a mercy by sending him away from temptation. 

Perhaps it was better this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by** : [Woman's Live Instagram Story Of Couple Meeting On Plane Will Restore Your Faith In Romance](https://cheezburger.com/6140165/womans-live-instagram-story-of-couple-meeting-on-plane-will-restore-your-faith-in-romance).  
>  **Modern AU**. Is this a... romantic comedy?

Cullen sighs, leaning back in his seat. Just a few more minutes of boarding left, and if he’s lucky, the seat by the aisle might remain empty. He’s itching to hear the “boarding completed” call - he only wants to slump in his spot, close his eyes and relax as the plane takes him back home to England. He’s spent three weeks in Copenhagen this time, assisting in NATO affairs again. He likes the place just fine, but there’s no place like home.

He almost sighs out loud when a large man crash-lands to the empty seat next to him, ruining the plans for a restful and quiet flight. He peeks at him from the corner of his eye - he’s tall and buff, perhaps even bigger than him. He’s comfortably dressed, wrapped in a dark gray hoodie and worn jeans. The man turns to look at him, and Cullen’s excellent manners force him to meet his gaze.

Oh, shit. He’s gorgeous.

His eyes are blue, a shocking hue that reminds him of late summer skies, and his hair is dark and messy. He’s around the same age as him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he breaks into an easy smile as he regards Cullen. “Hi.”

Cullen coughs, resisting the urge to shake his head at himself; caught staring. “Hi.”

The man offers his hand for a shake, his pretty lips curving deeper. Cullen takes it, giving it a firm squeeze, trying not to betray his... surprise. “Cullen.”

“Carver. How are you?” 

The initial awkwardness falls away fast as they start conversing, discovering they’re both military men with professional ties to Denmark, both of them based in London. Soon the plane is flying high above the serene sea, rays of afternoon sun playing on Carver’s tanned skin as the man laughs, loud and unrestrained. The tight knots in Cullen’s tired muscles relax bit by bit, Carver’s shoulder lightly pressed against his. He doesn't know when that happened, which one of them moved, but it’s so natural, so easy. 

Carver stops the drinks cart, ordering them both beers. Cullen takes his can, oddly grateful to see no ring adorning the man’s left hand. Carver leans in closer to him, talking in lower tones between sips. They speak about their families, friends, future plans, and even past relationships. Cullen doesn't understand what manner of spell he’s under, what possesses him to share such private things with a stranger, why the words just pour out of his mouth when he looks Carver in the eye. 

“You’d think a man as gorgeous and smart as you would have a special someone waiting at home,” Carver muses, his hand laid on Cullen’s shoulder, a meaningful glint in his eyes.

And just like that, Cullen knows exactly what this is. He’s not the type to let his heart lead the way; logic and reason have always been his guiding lights, but something about this man calls to him. He’s handsome, funny, and quite the breath of fresh air. He’s only just met him, but he has the distinct feeling - however irrational it is - that he’s known him for much longer, and that he shouldn't over-analyze this.

He may be oblivious, out of practice with matters of the heart, but he’s no fool. He leaps.

“Perhaps I hadn't met anyone who would understand me,” he says, locking eyes with the tall brunette. A bashful smile spreads on Carver’s face, the deliberate use of past tense clearly sinking in. It’s too meaningful for a flirt, too many implications, but Cullen isn't an artist, and this isn't a painting. He does what he can.

They continue talking, their voices low murmurs in their little bubble, the world around them shrinking into just two people, almost unaware of the fact that the plane is landing. They sit and wait as the other passengers pour through the lane, both of them stalling, unwilling to part just yet. 

They walk side by side to the baggage claim, arms brushing and shoulders nudging, deep in conversation about football, the recent line-up changes their shared favourite team had made. Cullen spots his luggage, reluctantly picking it up from the belt. Time is running out. He steels himself, inhales, and forces the words out.

“Hey, do you--”

“Is it just me, or--”

They laugh, awkward anticipation hanging between them. 

“Can I have your phone number?” Carver asks, digging for his mobile from his pockets. “I mean, if you want to, we could see each other and, I don’t know, go on a d--”

Cullen interrupts him by pulling him down an inch and landing a quick peck on his lips. Carver chases after him, his large hand grabbing the back of his skull and bringing their lips together, a smooth and soft glide that goes on forever. Cullen can’t breathe, can’t think rationally, he can only lean against the hard body, his arm snaking around Carver’s waist. 

They spring apart as something falls on the floor, the crashing sound breaking the moment. Cullen casts a stunned look at Carver, a blush creeping to his cheeks as the other man stares back, wild-eyed and out of breath. Cullen notices Carver’s phone on the floor, miraculously intact, and picks it up. He saves his number on the device, a small smile on his face as he hands it back to Carver. “There. Don’t make me wait for too long.”

Carver lights up, his face breaking into a youthful grin. He steps back into Cullen’s space, a shaky finger tracing the scar above his lip. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ser Carver is almost as oblivious as Ser Cullen is.

"I need you to stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing,” Knight-Captain Cullen stated, matter-of-fact and regal behind his desk. He was perusing through his papers, seemingly casual and unconcerned with Carver’s presence. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ser,” Carver retorted, his voice as earnest as he could make it. Of course he knew what the man meant, but he wasn't about to admit that. 

Cullen sighed, putting the paperwork down, his tired eyes searching Carver’s. He put his elbows on the table, crossing his arms flat on the surface and leaned towards Carver. “I think you _do_ know what I mean.”

Carver lifted an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk in its own volition. He couldn't help himself - whenever he had the Knight-Captain’s attention, something in him shifted. The man was serious, dedicated, and devout, but there was something more to him. It bothered him like an itch he couldn't quite scratch.

“You,” Cullen started, snapping his mouth shut suddenly, turning to gaze at the wall, biting the insides of his cheeks. Carver suppressed a grin.

 _Nice_.

“You aggravate me on purpose. Do you deny this?” He finally managed, a faint colour rising to his cheeks. He shifted his eyes back to Carver’s, his mouth drawn in a straight line.

“I don’t mean to aggravate you, Ser,” he responded, quite honest with the man. He couldn't quite explain why he behaved the way he did, why his eyes followed his form everywhere, why he felt compelled to challenge his orders at every opportunity. Having the Knight-Commander watch him, to listen to him, was a rush he couldn't understand. 

_Liar_. 

“Is the Order unsavory for you? Do you oppose what we stand for, Ser Carver?” Cullen questioned, perplexed. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest as he regarded Carver. 

“It’s not that, Ser.” It was hard to keep a level face when his heart thumped hard in his chest, the palms of his hands sweating against the skirt of his armor. He resisted the urge to scratch the itch on... well, he didn't really know where it was, just that it was there. 

“Then what is it?”

Carver considered the question for a while. There was no simple reason for this; he really had tried to figure it out. It wasn't that the Knight-Captain reminded him of his brother, no, and he didn't really have a problem with authority. He didn't doubt his ability, he didn't dislike the man, and he most certainly didn't want to cause him trouble. “I don’t know, Ser.”

Cullen scoffed, getting up. He turned his back on Carver, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. The silence stretched for a while, and Carver briefly regretted not being able to see his face. Finally the man turned again, steely resolve in his eyes. “You will come here once a week unless I deem your behaviour appropriate. I will teach you the history of our Order until you find your motivation. Dismissed!”

 _YES_.

Carver left, a triumphant grin spreading on his face as soon as the door closed behind him. He would make sure to be particularly disagreeable, starting tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pure self-indulgence.

He’s the one who was supposed to have control, he thinks, a moment of clarity in between the strokes. He is the one who was supposed to lead, to take, to guide the way.

But he was never cut out for it, not here, not when he’s on his stomach against the rough linens. In here he’s just a heartbeat, an animal, nothing but flesh to be molded. Mindless, shameless, just a hole to be filled. It serves a purpose, lying here, taking everything he’s given. 

It’s not who he is - or who he’s _supposed_ to be - and at the same time, it’s the most true he’s ever been to himself. How Carver had seen into his soul is a mystery, but it doesn't matter; nothing really matters but the in and the out, the loss of autonomy as he’s held in place. It’s _right_. It’s where he’s meant to be. 

Just a hole. 

No control, no responsibility, no decisions to make. Just hot flesh against his, drool soaking the pillow as he’s taken, again and again. Seen for who he is, insatiably wanted for it. Satisfied, taken care of, _safe_. It’s a revelation that shakes him to his very core; this is who he was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings** : 1. Cullen is cheating. 2. Cullen ends a relationship with a woman. 3. This is not a happy fic at all. I’m trying to treat the topic as delicately as I possibly can. **Modern AU**.

This wasn't supposed to happen this way. This wasn't supposed to happen at all, Cullen corrected, gazing out of the window into the dead streets. Tears streamed freely from his eyes as he waited, three duffel bags laid at his feet, the headlights of passing cars illuminating his face in the darkened room. 

_Please, don’t let her wake before I’m gone. I can’t face her._

He’d prayed. Oh, God, how he had prayed, how he had tried to breathe life into what was long dead. None of it was her fault; all blame lay within him, in the emotions he could neither change nor deny. He had tried so vehemently, prayed so sincerely, lied to himself so convincingly. None of it had worked; the ache inside of him had only grown, the chasm between them had widened. In all honesty, it had been over far before Carver had stepped back into his life, but his bright smile had sank the final nail in the coffin.

This wasn't supposed to be him; nothing but a pathetic liar, a loathsome cheat, leaving their shared home forever with nothing to inform her but a tear-stained letter on the kitchen counter. What a coward he was, so completely undeserving of both her _and_ Carver, but he couldn't face her - nor could he continue living this lie.

_She will find someone better._

A familiar car curved to the parking lot, headlights turned off. The moment of truth. He sniffled softly, risking one final look from behind the bedroom door. She was beautiful - the creases of worry smoothed by peaceful slumber, her delicate mouth slightly open. He tried to summon the love he no longer felt one last time, but only guilt and regret echoed in his heart, a tear falling down from his jaw. 

_I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. Never forgive me._

He gathered his bags, the bare minimum he needed neatly packed, his movements soundless as he opened and closed the door. He ran to the car like the thief that he was; he’d stolen years of her life, selfishly thinking he could grow to love her again, feel like he had used to. He threw the bags in the back seat, slumping next to Carver, sinking into the seat as loud sobs tore out of him for the first time. 

A strong arm circled his shoulders, pulling his convulsing form against a warm chest, a sturdy jaw coming to rest on his head. God help him, it felt _right_ , even now.

“Are you sure, love?”

Cullen forced himself to settle enough to meet Carver’s eyes, so full of sympathy and concern he did not deserve. He pulled in a shaky inhale; he could still cancel this. He could still go back and try to make it all up to her. He could burn the letter and unpack the bags, and everything would be back to normal come morning.

“Just drive. Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which templar recruit Carver Hawke jacks off to fantasy!Cullen. (✿⊙ᴗ⊙)

The room around Carver is quiet aside the light snores of his fellow recruits and the rustle of sheets as they shift in their sleep. He looks around in the torch-lit dormitory, finding nothing but closed eyes and open mouths drooling on the pillows. 

He’s sleepless. Marian is in trouble again, after having done Maker knows what with her apostate friends - he couldn't quite catch the details when he happened to overhear some Knight-Lieutenants talking about it. He would never admit to it, but he worries. It’s partly why he enlisted; while he can’t seem to reach her with reason, perhaps by being here he can protect her from getting caught. He cannot lose another sister, and captivity would kill her spirit for sure.

He has to stop thinking about these things. There’s very little he can do as a recruit, and losing sleep doesn't help improve his mood. He sighs, turning on his side.

There’s one failsafe way to relax, but he’s not sure he’ll welcome the thoughts doing that would inevitably bring. The dawn is fast approaching, and his back is sore from laying awake too long. His options are limited at best. 

He glances around the room; everyone’s still fast asleep. Perhaps there’s no harm in indulging in this, even though the fantasies supplied by his mind make him feel all sorts of weird. A hand sneaks underneath his smalls, fingers circling around his flaccid cock. Alright.

_Ser Cullen stares at him from across the room. He looks stern, his disapproving eyes fixed on the movement beneath Carver’s blanket. He strides over, his armor clanking in time with his brisk steps, finally coming to a halt by Carver’s bed. Carver doesn't stop._

Carver can feel the blood rushing to his groin, cock growing hard faster than it ought. Void, this is weird.

_He doesn't say a word, just throws away the blanket covering him. Then he’s stripping, his armor falling to the ground with loud clanks. The people around them start waking up as Ser Cullen climbs his bed, lodging himself against his back. His breath is hot on the back of Carver’s neck as his fingers find his hole._

Oh Blight, he’s gonna need to do that too. He sends a small prayer skywards, hoping the others won’t stir. He spits on his fingers, bringing them where he needs them, and closes his eyes.

_Ser Cullen twists his fingers just right, pressing the spot that sends hot sparks straight to Carver’s cock. His lips are wet and rough on Carver’s shoulder, surely leaving marks. Everyone is watching them, too afraid to say anything, silently judging him when he wantonly pleads for Ser Cullen’s cock._

He keeps his mouth shut, not risking a sound. 

_Ser Cullen bites him hard, his breath harsh on Carver’s skin. He pushes Carver on his stomach, an arm pressing him down as he lines himself up. And suddenly Carver is full, too full, and it’s too much, but Ser Cullen doesn't give him any time to adjust. He comes down, his entire body pressing against Carver, his dick moving deep inside. It’s nothing like the fingers, because this fucking hurts and feels like heaven, all at the same time._

It takes all the control he has not to pant, three spit-soaked fingers moving inside of him, the other hand stripping his cock at an awkward angle. This is the best one yet.

_Someone calls Carver a slut, but if Ser Cullen hears, he doesn't react. He’s putting all his strength into fucking him, the slaps of skin-on-skin resounding in the room. His teeth are sinking into the meat of Carver’s shoulder, and Carver feels like an animal, being bred by the alpha male of his herd. He loves it, loves taking everything Ser Cullen has to offer like a bitch in heat._

He comes into his hand, his mouth open wide, not a sound escaping him. He jabs his fingers inside hard one more time, another load of spend spurting from his cock. It takes him a while to get down from his high, and as soon as he does, his brain starts nagging at him, insisting on a conversation he doesn't want to have. No way, not that can of worms.

He takes a sock off his foot and cleans himself with it, reminding himself to get rid of it come morning. He settles himself into a comfortable position and drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff with Inquisitor!Carver, because why not. :)

Cullen was hard at work, his desk full of reports and correspondence. Carver watched him frown in concentration, almost tempted to let him continue. But no, he came here for a reason, and it was an important one.

“Got a minute?”

His voice startled Cullen, pulling his nose off those damned papers. His lips curled into a small smile when he spotted Carver. “Inquisitor! I wish I did, but these reports from the Western Approach are--”

“They can wait. And don’t be so formal. It’s just you and me here, right?” Carver leaned his hands on the table, smiling down at his lover. “Come on, let’s go outside. I got something for you. It’ll only take a minute, okay?”

They stared at each other for a moment, Carver employing his full charm on the other man. Finally he relented, his shoulders relaxing. “Alright. You go on ahead, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Carver leaned his back against the rough stone of the battlements, his face turned towards the sunlight, eyes closed. It was a warm day, the beams of sunlight actually warm for the first time in months. 

The door to Cullen’s office creaked and he watched the man approach. Carver grabbed his hand, pulling him down to his lips, savoring the contact. Cullen’s arm wrapped around his back, bringing him closer as they kissed leisurely. It wasn't anything more than that; just two lovers enjoying each other’s proximity.

“You said you had something for me?” Cullen asked once they finally pulled apart.

“Yeah, and that was it. I got loads more, though,” Carver grinned.

“While I’d love to cash in on them, I’m really quite busy. Perhaps later tonight?”

“Mm, you know what? I’m the boss, and I think you need a break. Besides, it’s the first day of Spring,” Carver argued, bringing his hands to rest on Cullen’s shoulders. “I think you should sit with me. And I can make that an order if you insist on being stubborn.”

Cullen laughed, settling down on the ground and pulling Carver under his arm. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“Indeed,” Carver smirked, his fingers under Cullen’s jaw as he leaned in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by a song** : Nautilus Pompilius - Дыхание. [eng translation]

Cullen wakes up with a start, his stomach tense and body covered in cold sweat. His head turns around wildly, eyes wide in their sockets, breath frantic. He relaxes upon finding the tower exactly the same as they’d left it. Carver sleeps peacefully by his side, his lax face turned towards him. His naked shoulder twitches as a gust of cold air blows through the wide-open roof. Cullen pulls the cover higher over him carefully.

He lays back down, bringing his face as close to Carver’s as he dares; he has no desire to wake him up, not for a silly nightmare.

He had dreamed the tower was surrounded by red lyrium, him and Carver the sole survivors as the world around them surrendered to its terrible power. It had overgrown and expanded, formed a block kilometres thick above Skyhold, its crimson tendrils reaching in through the hole in the roof. 

He had realized in the dream that they would suffocate to death. 

Carver had slept, completely unaware of the rapid changes taking place around them, looking so innocent and harmonious. Cullen wasn't ready to let him go, to watch him choke, so he had started monitoring his breath. Shallow little intakes, few and far between, a sad smile on his face as he prolonged their last moments together, an irrational certainty taking root in his mind that he wouldn't awaken before they were both lifeless. If only he saved the oxygen for Carver, he wouldn't know they were dying.

He wonders how close he had come to losing Carver to red lyrium in _this_ reality; a bad decision or two could have thrown him in Samson’s path, his death sentence signed and sealed before he knew it. It could have been either one of them. Perhaps they would be fighting on different continents, mere mindless weapons spreading corruption over Thedas until they finally fell, unrecognizable corpses missed by none. Not knowing where the other was, and what’s worse, not caring. 

Cullen closes his eyes, listening to the steady breathing of his slumbering lover. It was by Maker’s mercy they were here, fighting for tomorrow, still together. He savors every intake he hears like a blessing before drifting back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news of Lady Leandra’s death had reached the Gallows quickly.

The news of Lady Leandra’s death had reached the Gallows quickly. Templars and mages alike had gathered to pay their respects to Ser Carver, whom graciously accepted them with a stoic countenance. Cullen watched him nod solemnly at Ser Emeric, who held him by the shoulder and spoke close to his face. He couldn't tell how many men and women had come by already; Carver was a rather well-liked man in the Gallows.

He seemed to be handling it well; there was no crying, no bouts of anger, nothing to suggest he was broken by the news. But Cullen knew better. He had been the first to offer his condolences, and the mask had slipped for just a moment; Carver was dumbstruck, shocked, and in denial. He’d gathered the man in his arms, held him behind a corner where nobody could see them, Carver’s hitching breaths puffing right by his ear.

They had been quiet, for what was there to say? Nothing Cullen could have come up with would have brought his beloved mother back, so he held him in silence, waiting for his breaths to slow. He had suggested a day off, but Carver had declined, saying he needed to stay occupied, so the man stood guarding the yards now. Cullen couldn't quite let him out of his sight, finding excuses to hover nearby, just in case he should be needed.

Truth be told, Cullen was afraid of what was to transpire come nightfall. He had very little experience in soothing the grief of another person, and beautiful words had never been his forte. What if he said the wrong thing and drove Carver off to cope by himself? What if his silence made everything worse? He couldn't bear the thought of adding to Carver’s pain. 

He needed to stay strong for him, to hide is insecurity and trust his instincts. Once the man climbed up the stairs and reached his room, Cullen would listen, hold him, stay awake all night for him if he had to. He hoped it would be enough, that _he_ would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Hockey AU**.

The words rang in Cullen’s head as he sat in the locker room. Coach Samson was admonishing their pitiful performance, loud and insistent, but Cullen barely registered the words. They’d lost, and it was all his fault - he couldn't keep his head in check, and it had cost them the game in front of their home audience. As the center, he was used to hearing taunts and insults of all kinds from his opponents, but nothing could have prepared him for _this_. 

_“Gonna fuck you like I fucked your mom, Rutherford. Wonder which one of you tastes sweeter?”_

Christ. He’d heard the new Penguins enforcer was a real piece of work, but he hadn't expected to have his mind messed with like this. Carver Hawke was known to be large and aggressive, quite happy to injure anyone who got in his way, but nobody had said that, that he’d-- 

_“Hot and bothered, Rutherford? I can help with that.”_

Cullen shook his head to clear it, the images of that arrogant smirk and ice-blue eyes persistently stuck in his mind. He couldn't help the blush that crept to his cheeks when he remembered how the other man had tackled him during the third period, their bodies pressed together for a brief moment and those cursed _words_ coming out of him.

_“Fairmount hotel, ask for Mabari. See ya, Rutherford.”_

Hell, this was insanity. He couldn't believe he was actually thinking of going. It was probably a joke, or a strategy to distract him (God help him, it had worked), or perhaps a prank. Maybe nobody was even there. 

Last in the shower, he made quick work of jacking himself off. He toweled briskly, got dressed, and left the stadium. Seating himself in the back of a taxi, he heard himself say “Fairmount hotel, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt** : “[Impressive, truly.](https://fictober18.tumblr.com/prompts)”

“Commander, you’d better take a look at this,” Knight-Captain Rylen hollered from the staircase, gesturing at a sparring pair of Wardens. They had managed to recruit a fair amount of surviving members after the battle of Adamant, these two clearly among their best, judging by how they were going at it.

Cullen settled next to the man to watch them. The day was hot and sunny, but the heat didn't seem to slow the Wardens, their large two-handers gleaming as they clashed against one another. It was quite a sight to behold, and Cullen noted a proud smile on Rylen’s face. “Look at them go!”

“Impressive, truly. I wonder if this is the level of all our Warden recruits,” Cullen pondered, his hands resting on his hips.

“Let’s find out,” Rylen said, not waiting for Cullen’s permission. “You two! Over here.”

The pair paused, glancing over at the Knight-Captain. They put away their swords, walking to the two men by the stairs, both giving them a curt bow. The dark-haired man looked familiar to Cullen, but he couldn't quite place where he had met him before. 

“That was some nice fighting. Were those Warden techniques?” Rylen asked, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight. 

“Yes, Ser,” the brown-haired woman responded, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of skills and techniques they had used in their duel. Rylen asked so many questions, but Cullen’s mind was occupied elsewhere. The familiar-looking man was casting glances at him, the same recognition in his eyes as Cullen felt. It was quite unnerving.

“What are your names, Wardens?” Rylen finally asked.

“Warden Mia Allard, Ser.”

“Warden Carver Hawke, Ser.”

“Ha! So that is how I know you,” Cullen exclaimed before he could stop himself. “You’re the Champion’s little brother.” 

“Yes, Ser,” he responded somewhat regretfully. “And you’re Commander Rutherford, the former Knight-Captain of Kirkwall,” he continued, a small smile growing on his face. “I met you a few times at the Gallows when I ran with Marian’s crew. I assure you my skills have improved greatly since those days.”

Cullen was taken aback by the man’s straight-forward manners. “I can see that. Your combat skills are very impressive.”

“Thank you, Ser. I've been told my plunges are superb,” Hawke almost-grinned, his eyes twinkling slyly as he held Cullen’s gaze. What was this man--

Rylen snorted beside him, his hand coming up to Cullen’s shoulder. “Yes, so it seems, Warden. Dismissed.”

Cullen let out a breath of relief as the duo walked away, grateful for the interruption. That had gotten awkward fast. 

“Nice-looking lad. You ought to take him to Skyhold.”

Cullen whipped his attention to Rylen’s grinning face. “What?” 

“Just saying, you’re allowed to have fun every now and then,” Rylen wiggled his eyebrows. “And he,” he subtly pointed at the man with his thumb, “he seems like fun.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cullen retorted and took his leave, Rylen’s chuckles hastening his exit. It was not that Rylen was wrong, but his cheeks were starting to heat up, and he was in no mood to be called out on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which aggressive pro-mage!Hawke is overprotective of his younger brother, and Cullen needs to have a word with him.

Cullen spotted a familiar figure making his way to one of Skyhold’s towers. It couldn't be-- 

The figure turned, a quick glance over his shoulder as he kept up his brisk walk. He disappeared behind a corner quicker than Cullen could decide what to do with this unexpected information. 

If Hawke was here, maybe Car--

He scrunched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. No, it wouldn't do to get ahead of himself. There hadn't been any letters in three months and a week. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, but he couldn't help but wonder if something had happened to Carver. It was unusual not to hear of him. Sure, his letters were short and to-the-point, but the man had never failed to send them. 

Cullen decided to stay outdoors that day, boosting morale amongst his men with his presence as he kept a subtle eye on Hawke’s movements. 

\-----

“Hawke!” Cullen called out, sprinting towards the surprised mage.

“Knight-Captain Cullen?” The man asked bluntly, crossing his arms on his chest. “My brother told me you’d joined the Inquisition. My my, the years haven’t been kind on you.”

“Commander. That is my title now,” Cullen said, too focused on his mission to address the insult. “How is--” he halted, wondering if this was wise. Hawke didn't know; it wouldn't be wise to let him figure it out now, not when him and Carver hadn't talked it through.

An awkward moment passed between them, Hawke frowning and shifting on his legs as Cullen searched for the right words. “Yes? How is what?”

The questions passed his lips before he could stop himself. “How is Carver? Is he with you?” 

Hawke considered him, his eyes searching Cullen’s. “Why do you ask?”

Cullen resisted the effect of that penetrating glare. The old animosities still hung between them, that much he could tell from the tone of Hawke’s voice - and if it wasn't for Carver, he’d rather have punched himself in the face than talk to this impossible man. “He worked with me for years. Is it strange that I ask after him?”

“Funny,” Hawke scoffed, “he told me write you, to let you know he’s alright. Then I had the Guard-Captain drag him to safety. Maker, that was a spectacle.” 

Cullen let out a breath of relief, the weight of dread falling off his shoulders. But wait... “And you never did?” 

“Must have slipped my mind,” the man simply said. His cool eyes regarded Cullen, assessing his face for evidence of something. Cullen held his gaze, not trusting himself to respond. The man _knew_. 

“Perhaps that was a mistake,” Hawke broke the silence, evidently satisfied with what he found. “I figured you for one of his silly fancies. He’s safe. I will have Aveline deliver his letters. Good day, Knight-Captain.”

With those words, the man departed and didn't look back. Cullen stood there, dumbfounded, trying to figure out what had just passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by a song** : [Nautilus Pompilius - Жажда](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEioewzdir0) [[eng translation](https://lyricstranslate.com/en/zhazhda-%D0%B6%D0%B0%D0%B6%D0%B4%D0%B0-thirst.html)]

_Some things never really go away_ , Cullen mused, a familiar rush running through him. Carver’s eyes were fixed on him from across the yard as he walked the stony ledge leading to his office. He couldn't resist a quick glance at the man before closing the door behind him.

He didn't have time for this; it was hard enough to focus on his duties with the way the withdrawals were wrecking his body, he couldn't have _this_ on his plate, too. It was all too much.

_But Carver is here now, and Maker knows if I’ll get a third chance._

It had been a tumble, really. It was meant to be so much more - Cullen had been _ready_ \- but circumstances had come between them; Lady Leandra had died and Carver had withdrawn inside his shell. Cullen hadn't known what to do - Carver had made it clear he wouldn't talk about it, and he’d all but insisted Cullen’s company wasn't welcome. 

Perhaps it had been a mistake, but Cullen had stopped fighting. Soon, years had passed, and they had kept working side by side, but he’d never forgotten about that night. The humbling look of adoration in Carver's eyes, the bewitching scent behind his ear, the exquisite feel of his mouth on his skin, the strawberry taste of his lips, the dizzying words he had said; the memories were all branded to his brain.

He had thought the distance would help, that he thirst would eventually ease if he didn't see him every day, and it had - for a while. Life had gotten so hectic, the Inquisition’s efforts so monumental, his condition ever worse; there simply had been no room in his mind for regrets and what-ifs.

But that was before Carver had enlisted to the cause. Was it terrible of him to hope that he was here for him? Was it strange of him to want him gone at the same time? He hadn't been doing exactly _well_ in his absence, but it had been working, and now his already precarious balance was threatened.

He shouldn't be wasting his precious time thinking about Carver’s lips when the world around them was about to shatter, he shouldn't lay awake in bed at night, wondering if Carver was sleepless too. But alas, some forces were too strong for him to battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Modern AU** (late 90′s - early 00′s setting), teen!Culver. Totally innocent teeny weeny love, I promise.

Cullen sat by the small lake hugging his knees to his chest. His bicycle laid next to him, the beach empty aside from him and the old thing. The Sun was still above the treeline, but the evening clouds were slowly gliding to the sky. The late July warmth still lingered and he felt comfortable in his simple t-shirt and jeans. 

He glanced at his watch. Carver was late. 

It wasn't unusual of him, so Cullen decided not to worry. He hadn't stood him up yet, and if he did tonight, he’d probably have a good reason to do so. He’d give him twenty more minutes before he’d go home; upsetting mother by breaking curfew would be a terrible idea. 

A frog croaked nearby and Cullen sought it out with his eyes. It hopped by the shoreline, croaking past his still form. It felt ridiculous to call it a shoreline; this was the smallest lake in town, and nobody ever came here, but that’s why they had chosen the spot. He heard the familiar sound of a moped in the distance, and a knot formed in his stomach - that feeling just as familiar.

He drew in a breath, forcing himself to calm down. He wasn't sure why he always got so nervous; he’d hung out with Carver almost every day over the summer break - well, Carver’s summer break anyway, he himself was home schooled - he knew the boy. He tried not to think about it too much and just enjoy having a friend. The first friend of _his_ choosing, anyway.

The moped stopped behind him, and he couldn't help but break into a wide smile when Carver pulled the helmet off his head.

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Wallace made me do overtime at the store,” Carver scoffed and scowled, walking over and flopping down next to him. “Wanna listen to some music? I got a new CD and it’s _sick_. Been listening to it all day.”

“Sure,” Cullen smiled at him. The other boy’s annoyance melted off of his face as he fished the Discman from his jacket pocket and presented the CD. “The Bloodhound Gang? Never heard of them.”

Carver snorted. “Of course you haven’t. Your mom wouldn't like them,” he teased, shrugging off the jacket and settling it in his lap.

“Yeah, but I might. Come on, let’s hear it,” Cullen retorted, faking annoyance. Carver was a good guy once you got past his spiky surface; his jabs were never especially hurtful - he just wanted to see if he could get a rise out of him. It was funny, and usually Cullen gave as good as he got.

Carver shuffled with the player, straightening the cord of his headphones and resting them on Cullen’s shoulder as he skipped through most of the album before finally settling on [track 10](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xat1GVnl8-k). “Okay, this is the good one.”

Cullen lifted one speaker to his ear, Carver grabbing the other one and leaning in close. Their shoulders pressed against each other as the first beats started playing, and Cullen fought the impulse to blush. They did this all the time, but the proximity always flipped something in Cullen’s stomach, something he wasn't equipped to analyze. 

The lyrics penetrated through his thoughts; _put your hands down my pants and I bet you’ll feel nuts_. “Holy shit,” he chuckled.

“Cool, yeah?” Carver asked with a grin in his voice, shifting closer to Cullen, the skin of their arms brushing. Goosebumps erupted, he could feel it, and the blush spreading on his face couldn't be blamed entirely on the song. He refused to think about it now. Besides, it was normal - right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Inspired by a song** : [Queen - Love Of My Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2vtslO2iNw). **Warning: Death fic.**

It was hard to accept that Carver was gone. It had been a month since he’d fallen at the battle of Adamant, his Inquisition tabard soaked crimson and ruined as he bled to death on the desert soil. Cullen couldn't get those last moments out of his mind; Carver’s mouth opened in a wordless plea, his beautiful eyes wide with pain and fear, a stray tear falling down his cheek.

It was the first and last time he’d held Carver in his arms.

He had asked for the tabard, grateful that the medic hadn't asked why. _We worked together for a long time, he was my friend_ , he would have said. Instead the woman had complied with a quick affirmative, effectively removing the item from Carver’s lifeless body and passing it over to Cullen’s trembling hands.

_Carver_.

It was hard to believe he had ran out of time. Death loomed over each and every soldier during wartime, but he’d never thought it would come for Carver; he was brilliant, the fiercest of them all, a cannonball that wrecked destruction in its wake. Cullen couldn't reconcile the man he knew with the scared boy that bled in his arms. Was it really _Carver_ that died? 

He never had the chance to tell him. 

No. He never had the courage to do so, and now it was too late. He had spent those last moments telling Carver he’d be alright, fervently trying to convince himself as well as the other man. Oh, if only his belief would have made it so. 

On some nights he brought the bloodied tabard to bed, the smell of Carver still clinging to it, as if some part of him still lingered in this world. He couldn't quite bring himself to hug the cloth against his chest, lest he’d extinguish that last breath that remained. He’d spread it next to him, where Carver could have been, had Cullen not been a fool. He’d stare at it, willing his mind to take him to him in his sleep.

Life around him went on; meetings were held, strategies planned, but inside of him silence reigned. Sometimes he caught Varric’s eyes mirroring his own, but neither of them made the move to talk. How could he even begin to express how he felt? It was everything and nothing at the same time, like the great emptiness of a raging ocean. 

Carver was never coming back, and yet Cullen was the one that had lost everything - everything that he never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Modern AU**. Triggers: Homelessness.

You think you’re alone in the world, and suddenly you’re not. 

You saw him kicking pebbles on the street. His clothes were as dirty as yours, his black hair unwashed, the same empty look in his eyes as you know yours had. You didn't talk to him - you knew how you’d react if someone did that to you. Besides, you’re too shy.

Instead you started showing up. You walked to the spot you saw him last, hoping you might catch a glimpse. If he saw you often enough, maybe he wouldn't see you as a threat. Maybe you’d exchange a few words, eventually form a friendship. You could protect each other; two is always better than one, especially here.

Your plan worked. One day he smiled at you, and you knew what that meant from someone like you. You steeled yourself, forced some words out of your mouth. You heard him laugh at something you said, but you dared not look. Your hands sank deep into your trouser pockets as you chatted, and it was as if you were nothing but two normal people. 

You liked that, and so did he. You started meeting him there, and suddenly there were plans and hopes. The city started looking less gray, and his presence made your soul lighter - even when all those terrible things you needed to do to survive still remained. He had a plan and you believed in him, so you took his advice and you both worked tirelessly.

So now you’re here, in your tiny apartment - a shit hole by any and all standards, but it’s _yours_ and it’s so much better than any of the found corners you've claimed over the years. He’s there in the bed still, yesterday’s newspaper in his hand, his blue eyes especially striking in the morning sun. 

“Hey, think I could score a job at McDonalds?” he asks, and you want to kiss him. 

“Yeah, Carver. You can do anything,” you say instead, because you’re dying to see him smile, to revel in the hope reflected in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Carver are in a relationship, but for fear of being found out, they dare not touch one another. Set in the same world as the ficlet from Day 4.

“If you had your way, what would you do to me?” Carver asked. He was seated across from Cullen, naked and flushed, the smooth surface of Cullen’s desk covering his arousal. 

Cullen groaned, equally nude in his chair, slowly jacking himself under the table. These were dangerous waters; one day he would slip, he knew, but he had to hold on. Just for a little longer, just until he could figure out how to legitimize their relationship. “Carver, don’t.”

“Ser, please, I need to know,” the man begged, his voice rough. “Would you fuck me, Ser? Please, give me something.”

“I.. don’t do this,” Cullen pleaded in return, crunching his eyes shut. He couldn't look into those expectant eyes; he shouldn't have allowed Carver here in the first place, if he was honest. 

“Look at me, Ser,” Carver climbed higher in his chair, revealing his hard-on, “look at what you do to me. It’s not fair to leave me guessing.” 

_Maker have mercy_. He’d seen it before so many times, but the way Carver writhed when he touched himself never got old. His perfect skin was blushed, his gorgeous blue eyes hooded, asking for it, asking for him. He could imagine what he’d look like, how he’d be spread under him, all sweat sheened skin and lax limbs, begging... “I’d.. yes, I’d... fuck you, Maker’s breath.”

Carver keened and stroked hard, his free hand trembling on the arm of his chair. Suddenly he was up, mounting the seat with his back on Cullen, his legs dangling off the arms as he hugged the seat to his chest. 

“Carver, what--”

“Look at me, Ser. Just shut up and look,” he commanded, looking at him from behind his shoulder. He brought two of his fingers into his mouth, sucking at them shamelessly, holding the eye contact. 

Cullen gasped when the fingers found the entrance, nudging at the tight muscles before sinking inside. 

“Oh, Seerrr,” Carver purred, his hips undulating in the air, dick rubbing against the seat as the digits sank ever deeper. Cullen couldn't tear his eyes away, the display before him too captivating. Carver moaned and whined as he wriggled, the movement of his fingers matching the rhythm of Cullen’s hand. He could imagine it all too well, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he dreamed of the wet heat of his Knight, so tight but welcoming. His throat went dry when Carver continued talking.

“Ser, please, it’s not enough. I need your,” he paused with a hitch, his fingers paused to press hard, “I need your cock. _Please_ , Ser.”

“I can’t, you know I can’t,” Cullen rushed to say, his hand going hard and fast in its own volition. _I want to. I must. I shouldn't. I can’t. I need to._

“But Ser, can’t you see I’m dying for it! For _you_ ,” Carver exclaimed, his voice broken and wanton. “How long are you gonna make me wait?”

“Just a little longer, love, I swear,” Cullen breathed, meaning it. It couldn’t go on like this; there was only so much he could take, he was weak, a damned wretch for his Knight. He has to figure it out, it _has_ to be done. “Maker, how I want you.”

Carver rubbed against the seat faster, his eyes closed and fingers suspended. He came with a mewl, his head hanging back, gasping for breath. It was the look in his eyes that finally did it for Cullen, his spend flying onto the table, a groan escaping his mouth.

“I’ll figure it out, love, trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** : non-explicit cheating, because apparently I can’t get enough of the subject. **Modern AU**.

Jenna Rutherford was always a daddy’s girl. She would side with her father when Saturday evening activities were planned, accompany him everywhere he went, consult him whenever she needed advice. They went camping together, played Tekken against one another - hell, sometimes her father even took her shopping. Don’t misunderstand - Jenna loved her mother just as much, it’s just that father always spoiled her and understood her. They were carved from the same wood, he always used to say.

So when she walked down the stairs to his man-cave and found her father kissing Carver, his best friend, her world nearly crumbled. She retreated, her steps soft and undetected, running to her room as soon as she was out of earshot. 

She didn't sleep much that night, nor the night after. What was she supposed to do with this information? If she told her mother, she would pack her things and leave, possibly taking her along. She couldn't bear such responsibility weighing her shoulders, her sixteen years on this planet not enough to prepare her for something like this.

So she stayed quiet and watched. 

She observed her father at the dinner table, silent and solemn, avoiding eye contact with her mother. She eyed her mother, sitting across from her, absently rolling her wedding band around her finger, her untouched meal getting cold on the plate. Jenna sat outside with her book, discreetly watching her father and Carver throwing hoops, smiling and laughing like nothing was wrong. She hated them both, but especially Carver. If it wasn't for him, they could all be happy. 

But when she saw the look in her father’s eyes when he was alone, she realised it was killing him inside. She couldn't hate him, not really, and she couldn't keep pretending everything was alright. So she did what she always did when she needed advice - she talked to her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	29. Chapter 29

Knight-Captain Cullen believed in him. 

He watched him train, giving him good pointers whenever he noticed fault in Carver’s strategies, a bright smile on his face when Carver mastered new plunges and parries. He went through great lengths to ensure Carver’s comfort in the Gallows, always asking him if there was something he needed, or if he wanted to talk.

Knight-Captain Cullen made him feel like he belonged.

It made something inside of him come alive; he wanted to make the man proud, to always see that pleased look on his face. He hadn't known how much he had needed this - to be seen for who he could be, to have someone want to unravel his potential. So he trained hard, every spare minute of his day spent rehearsing his combat techniques and smites, not only for himself, but for the Order. For Cullen. 

“Hawke, I have a feeling you’ll be one of our best,” the man grinned one day, his hand resting on Carver’s shoulder and pride in his voice.

Knight-Captain Cullen was _proud_ of him. 

He couldn't help the flush that crept to his face, nor the tremors wrecking the bottom of his stomach. He turned his face away from those beaming eyes, too flustered to respond. 

_I’m his Hawke_ , he thought in triumph. _But I can’t help but want to be his Carver_ , an intrusive voice added. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Sequel to Day 8** : Pride and Prejudice AU.

It has been two months since he’d presented his disastrous proposal, and Cullen finally feels confident enough to approach Ser Carver again. He doesn't intend to repeat his offer, not just yet - he merely wishes to remind the man that what he had told him was true. Carver sits near the training dummies, wiping his sword. His helmet lays discarded on the ground, his sweaty hair sticking to his face. Maker’s breath, he is beautiful.

“Ser Hawke,” Cullen calls as he approaches. A twinge of disappointment runs through him at the frown he is given, but he conceals it. Carver’s apprehension is not going to change overnight. “I congratulate you. I heard Lady Leandra has reacquired her estate in Hightown.”

Carver turns back to his polishing, very pointedly choosing not to hold his gaze. The silence between them stretches, and Cullen thinks he will not respond, but suddenly, “She has. She said the Seneschal received considerable pressure from the Gallows. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Ser.”

“No, I wouldn't,” Cullen simply says, walking away with a small smile on his face.

\---

Life in the Gallows has changed. Ser Rutherford has left him alone, the biting remarks completely absent from Carver’s day-to-day, the criticism directed somewhere else entirely. He feels like he can breathe again. He keeps up his routine of practicing with the dummies, but his rage has diminished, replaced by the desire to improve his skills.

Ser Rutherford still watches him from time to time, but there’s no malice in his gaze. It’s as if he’s looking at Carver because he wants him to know that he’s on his mind - or perhaps he merely wishes to stare his fill of him. Whatever the cause, it is obvious that his... feelings haven’t subsided. The solitary red rose he found under his pillow on the day before was enough to tell him that.

Carver isn't sure what to do with it. Being disliked is simple and all too familiar to him, but this? This is not simple at all. Perhaps if Ser Rutherford hadn't been so disagreeable at first, he might have considered the cursed offer - the man is attractive and clever enough, he can objectively admit that. Under different circumstances, Carver figures he could have even preferred him.

\---

He isn't doing this only to court Carver. He has had ample time to ruminate on his past actions, and the more he looked back, the worse his behaviour seemed. It had been unacceptable, really, to show his attention in such a misguided way - it was no wonder Carver could barely stand the sight of him.

So when he found employment for Gamlen Amell, it was a wordless apology to the man that had captured his heart. He did not truly know if Carver would even care of his uncle’s circumstances, but since he could do very little to improve those of the man himself without showing blatant favoritism, he turned to aid those in his circles. If he could never redeem himself in Carver’s eyes, he could at least try to put his own conscience at rest.

Carver is reading his letters in the yard, a skeptical eyebrow arched, fingers scratching the side of his face as he regards the words in obvious puzzlement. Cullen doesn't conceal his gaze - his feelings are no secret to the man, and bystanders would surely not understand the nature of his interest, so he sees no reason to hide. A brief glance exchanged between them is all that he dares to wish for, and he would settle for less.

When Carver puts folds his papers and sees him from the corner of his eye, the side of his lip quirking ever so slightly, it is more than he could have asked. He responds with a private smile, turning away to leave, his heart suddenly flooded with unbidden hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation and conclusion to chapters 4 and 27.

Carver stands before him, shifting his weight from one leg to another, trying to conceal the slight blush decorating his cheeks. He’s nervous, Cullen realises, his own stomach tying to a knot. 

“You’re the Knight-Commander now,” he says, the meaning behind his words registering in Cullen’s brain. He’s come to resolve this thing between them, once and for all.

It is true. Meredith had fallen weeks before and Cullen had been so busy afterwards, trying to restore structure in the shattered remains of the Order, struggling to win the loyalty of the mages that survived, writing letters to Chantry officials and trying to convince them it was all under control... It had all been a blur - one that afforded them nothing but passing glances and a few hushed words exchanged in the corridors. 

But today he was awarded the title of Knight-Commander. The ceremony had concluded mere hours ago, but Carver was never one to waste time. He knows what the shift in power means - now Cullen can do as he likes, provided he’s not openly opposing the Order’s rules. 

“I need you to make the move, love,” he finally replies, hesitantly approaching the taller man. “We are not in the clear just yet. Some risks remain, and I need you to be sure.”

Carver scoffs and smiles, closing the remaining distance between them, his marvelous body embracing Cullen’s, his bewitching scent catching in his nose. “I’ve been sure for a sodding year,” he whispers against Cullen’s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down his spine. “Please, Ser.”

Cullen draws back just enough to look Carver in the eyes, his fingers trembling on the Knight’s armored biceps, searching for signs of hesitation. A loaded silence ensues, the knowledge of what will pass between them sinking in.

Suddenly Carver moves, determinedly pulling at his gauntlets, letting them fall to the floor with a clang. His fingers, sweaty and rough, trace the side of Cullen’s face before pulling him in.

Their lips meet, and suddenly they can’t be close enough. They fumble with their armors, cursing clumsy fingers, impatiently tearing at each other while trying not to break the kiss. Cullen wants to run his lips over all of Carver’s scars - to put his hands on every nook and crevice of his body, to find every spot that makes the Knight moan - but right now he just needs to _feel_ him, to bury himself in the body of his beloved. There will be ample time for exploration later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It is done!** Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


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